Stories illustrated by Cara Lynch

On an overcast afternoon—the morning news’s weather forecast had mentioned only a 30-percent chance of light rain today—in front of the weathered statue of a fearless-looking, bronze-handsome explorer who first set foot in the area three centuries ago, a self-appointed downtown park prophet, jabbing his closed umbrella toward the sky as if to get the …

She awoke in her little bedroom on the upper floor of her townhouse apartment. She pulled off the covers and rolled away from the spot of pee with her little boy at the center of it. She swung her feet out of bed, sat on the edge and tugged her drenched nightshirt away from her hip …

He thumbed through the pages of the calendar, looking ahead. It was a special edition that contained five years. He wasn’t sure which date in the future it was where he planned to stop. It was with utter resentment that he even held the thing in his hand. Again, where would he stop? At some …

The glass reflected their translucent and floating faces as the world outside rolled by in green, blue and white. A constant hum with rhythmic thumps absorbed life on this side of the glass and kept that side out. They wore suits and sat facing each other, silhouetted by the glass wall beside them in the …

I wake up and my chest feels heavy because there are breasts sticking out of it because I am a woman. I go into the bathroom to prepare myself for the day. This takes a considerable amount of time. I put on makeup to make my face look better, and then I comb my hair …